Trunks Returns

By: Ryoko [Raiju]


Ten years since the death of one of the last of the Mirai Z Senshi, pain only finds itself tying tighter around those that had lost loved one to Buu.

Bulma looked up from her computer momentarily to glance at the framed picture of her son on the corner of a shelf above the pc. Fake flowers were laidaround the bottom and a small note was taped on the back. A tear slipped down her face.

"Trunks..."

The world was too quiet and lonely without her son. Vegeta and the others had been wished back to life with the Dragon Balls from the past. But life just wasn't complete anymore. She had attempted suicide hundreds of times, but Vegeta always caught her and kept her going through with it. Once, it was Chichi that caught her...


Bulma leaned against the closet wall holding a knife close to her neck. Chichi walked past her and noticed. She swerved around just as the woman raised the blade. The black haired woman smacked it away and into the wall on her left.

"Stop this! Don't do it! Bulma stop!" he yelled as she shook and fought to get away.

But the older woman gripped her shoulders firmly enough to the point that it hurt to move them.

"I'm sorry Bulma but this is for your own good..." she yelled before striking her harshly across the face with the back of her hand. Bulma froze and looked at her blankly, but in a surprised way. Chichi backed down and sat on one knee.

"Thank you Chichi." She whispered. The woman nodded, but didn't move her hands.

"I'm sorry about that but it was..."

"Don't worry about it. Even if I DID go through with it...Trunks isn't going to come back and there's nothing I can do about it."


Those words...Trunks isn't coming back...they haunted her every day and every night. When she worked, when she slept, when she merely stared out the window.

For ten years this torture and torment had gone on. She'd been at the breaking point many times...but now it was the worst ever. She HAD to know if her son was all right. She HAD to know if he really DID miss her. She just HAD to know for sure.


Later that night, Bulma awoke to a strange feeling that there was someone in the room with her.

The woman opened her eyes slowly and sat up. She gasped when she saw the tall glowing figure in the corner of the dark room. The person's bright blue eyes were staring lovingly at her.

"T...Trunks? I...is that YOU?" She whimpered, tears cascading down her face. The image smiled and nodded, letting his long lavender hair, which looked white, shift slightly. The woman, still in shock, stepped out of bed. She moved to the, still, 18 year old.

"I don't believe it! You're here! Standing right in front of me!" She gasped.

The ghostly figure was silent.

"You haven't changed much...you look...well...brand new!" she sighed, walking around

him in a circle. He smiled. A tear fell down her cheek. She reached out to touch him,

but came to realize that her hand slipped right through the illuminating figure.

"Huh? What's going on? Trunks?" She looked up. He closed his eyes and looked away, and then nodded.

"It's true. I'm not real." He finally said at last, sadly. He looked back at her. "But I just HAD to come back to tell you all that I'm fine and I really miss you. I wish I could hug you. But sadly I can't. I only have one night to complete my mission. So I have to hurry. I love you so very much mother. I am eternally grateful for everything you did for me in my lifetime." He smiled and walked up to her.

He leaned over and wrapped his arms around her neck.

"I love you mom." He whispered.

"I love you too son." She whispered back but when she went to wrap her arms around him he had vanished. Nothing was left.

"Trunks..." she whispered to herself...staring at the floor. Thinking for a moment, she wiped her eyes quickly with the sleeve of her shirt and smiled, despite all of her inner pain."Thank you, son. Rest In Peace." She sighed, allowing another tear streak her face.


After the encounter with her deceased son, Bulma swore never to cry again when hearing or thinking of her lost child. The memory of just setting eyes on him and hearing that he was okay...it was satisfaction enough for her heart. The thoughts, instead of hurting her more and more, nudged her onward in life.


Game Over